A Petty Contest
by Kandell
Summary: From the author formerly known as zutarataang4eva. Michelle Petty finds herself as the winner of a contest. The prize? Meeting quidditch player Oliver Wood. The problem? She didn't enter the contest and doesn't even like him.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is an I'm-sorry-for-killing-you story, dedicated to ., who I killed in my story A Petty Riddle. This time, Michelle is **_**not**_** going to die ((or is she? (((doo doo doo doooooo))) )). So without further ado, the first chapter!**

Chapter 1

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Cecily Petty screamed, jumping up and down in the entry of the Petty residence.

"Dear lord, Cecily, what's wrong with you?" Michelle, a petite brunette, walked out of the kitchen with her hands clamped over her ears.

Cecily was clutching a letter, still bouncing with excitement, "I won! I won I won I won I won!" She spun about, flapping her arms wildly.

"Won what?"

"I get to meet _him_!"

"Oh no." Michelle watched Cecily squeal and run to her room. The walls were covered in moving posters of Oliver Wood, a Quidditch player for Puddlemere United. Not the best team, but Oliver had brought it much more publicity with his looks. Michelle had always found famous men to be repulsive. Far too cocky and rude. "You're too young to meet him," Michelle said from the doorway of her sister's room. The younger girl stopped her squealing and bouncing.

"I am not!" Cecily clutched her chest in a melodramatic fashion, her voice overly insulted.

"You're too young to even enter contests like that."

"Yeah…"

"Cecily, you didn't lie about your age, did you?" Michelle's hands moved to her hips as she shifted her weight.

"No, I didn't…I entered you in the contest…" Cecily cringed, ready for the verbal barrage she was about to receive.

"You did _what_? How dare you? That's identity theft, you little imp!"

"I know, but I really want to meet him! And the contest was for the contestant plus one. I'll be your plus one!"

"What makes you think that I'm even going to meet him?"

"Because I need to! He's my future husband, Elle!"

Michelle frowned at Cecily's use of her family nickname. "You are too young for him. And I'm not going. Mom and dad aren't in town, we aren't allowed to go out."

Cecily's face darkened, "You will meet him, and you will take me, or I will owl mom and dad and tell them that you had a wild party and broke all of dad's bocchi ball trophies."

"You wouldn't."

Cecily quirked her eyebrow. The two girls stood, eyes locked, for several seconds.

"Fine, when and where?" Michelle huffed.

"Tomorrow at Café Mystique. I knew you'd see things my way. Now if you don't mind, I need to plan my outfit. I can't have my future husband seeing me in just any outfit!" And with that, Cecily shooed Michelle out of the room and closed the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Come on, Elle, hop to!" Cecily commanded from the porch. Michelle was a few steps behind her, grabbing her keys and locking the door behind her. The two girls, though similar as they were in physical appearance, looked very different today. Cecily was dressed in a pair of pink capris with a white one-strap top and a pink jacket, while Michelle was wearing a denim skirt and a Cobra Starship t-shirt and Rocketdog sneakers. Michelle had decided that appearance didn't matter. She wasn't trying to impress this Oliver Wood. She watched as Cecily slid some oversized sunglasses onto her face, turned on her heel, and sauntered forward. Michelle rolled her eyes, trudging after her younger sister.

"Do you have any reservations?" The hostess at Café Mystique asked.

"We're here to see my future husband, Oliver Wood," Cecily inspected her nails in a grand manner.

"Oh, Michelle Petty?"

"Yeah," Michelle muttered.

"Right this way," the hostess turned, leading the two girls into the café. "Mr. Wood is waiting for you in the VIP section," she stood to the side, opening a door. Michelle and Cecily entered the room and saw Oliver sitting at a booth in the corner. He looked up as they entered and waved them over. Cecily ran over and practically launched herself over the table, throwing her arms around Oliver's waist.

"My god, your posters don't do you justice!" the young girl fawned. Michelle rolled her eyes.

"Michelle?" Oliver looked to the older girl.

"Yeah. She's my plus one. My little sister Cecily."

"I may be younger, but I know when something's right," Cecily squeezed her arms tighter around Oliver's middle, closing her eyes and smiling.

"Right…"

"Cecily, let him go."

"Fine," she sighed. The three sat down, Cecily next to Oliver, and Michelle clear across the table.

"So why'd you enter the contest?" Oliver asked, mentally noting Michelle's distance.

Michelle looked at Cecily for a long, pointed moment, but decided that outing her sister's deceit would not go over well. "Cecily's in love with you."

The younger girl, as if on cue, looked up into Oliver's brown eyes, batting her eyelashes.

"I see." Oliver took a sip of his water. A waitress walked over, staring at the Quidditch player.

"May I take your orders?"

Michelle fought to suppress a snort. The way the waitress asked made it sound sexual.

"Yes, I'll have the club deluxe, and they'll have the chicken tenders," Oliver pointed to Cecily, "and the honey mustard burger," he pointed to Michelle. The waitress nodded and left.

"I love it when a man takes charge," Cecily fawned, attempting to be sexy. Michelle nearly threw up.

"So do either of you have boyfriends?" Oliver's tone indicated nothing but polite conversation.

"Why, is that an offer," Cecily leaned forward, nearly in his lap.

"Er…" As the Quidditch star leaned back at a loss for words, Michelle reached forward and yanked Cecily away.

"Hey!" the younger girl squealed. "Do you mind? We were just about to get intimate!" Oliver's mouth dropped open and Michelle rolled her eyes.

"Why don't you go to the ladies' room? Your foundation needs a touch up." Cecily gasped and, rather than asking to be let out of the booth, slid under the table and darted off.

"So…_do_ you have a boyfriend?" Oliver shrugged slightly.

Michelle, not knowing why, grew defensive. "Of course I do!"

"What's his name?" Oliver shifted in his seat to better face Michelle.

"His name is…is…" she looked at table, the place settings, and the windows "Silver Oakenvale."

"Huh. Never heard of anyone by that name before."

"Well you wouldn't have. He's not from England. He's from America. He's actually from a very well-to-do wizarding family in New York."

"I see. Well does he play any sports?"

"Of course he does! When he was in school, he was the captain of the varsity Quidditch team. He was undefeated. And now he races motorcycles."

"Well I simply have to meet this guy! My team is actually having a victory party for an undefeated season. You should bring him."

Michelle's face fell, "Well…I don't know. I mean, he might not be in the country, so-"

"Oh come on, we've got floo networks and portkeys."

"Well, he might have plans."

"Nonsense. He has to come. With you. It'll be great, and I won't take no for an answer," Oliver pointed at her playfully.

"But I-"

"I'm back!" Cecily flourished her arms, announcing her arrival.

Oliver muttered under his breath so Cecily couldn't hear, "So it's decided. Lovely!"

_Shit_.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Michelle sat, staring at her half-empty glass of water, while Cecily passed wedding plans by Oliver.

"And I think we should seat my aunt Clarice with your uncle Donahue, since they're both single," Cecily rambled on.

"Uh…" Oliver was obviously uncomfortable, but he deserved it…Demanding that Michelle bring her fictitious boyfriend to a party…The nerve! Michelle slumped lower in her seat. She counted the seconds until the lunch was over.

Michelle slammed her bedroom door, threw herself on her bed, and screamed into her pillow. She knew Cecily wouldn't hear her because Cecily was down the street, bragging to her friends about her "date with her fiancée".

Michelle, in addition to her scream, began pounding her mattress with her fists and kicking it like a three year old. When she ran out of air, she ceased the kicking and hitting and sat up. She ran her fingers through her hair, putting each strand in place, and stood. She needed something comforting.

She needed gelato.

Running down the stairs, Michelle grabbed her purse from the banister and slipped into her shoes, ignoring the laces. She left the house and made her way to her favorite café. As she arrived at the café, she waved to her neighbor Kelly. Kelly was also a muggle-born witch, and worked at L'Hiver Crème. Luckily for Kelly, her parents owned the café, so she was guaranteed to not get fired no matter how much she slacked off.

"Hey Meech!" Kelly greeted. "From ze look on your face, you don't need a menu. I'll tell Giffy to make a rose gelato for you." She turned, her long hair wheeling around behind her in a surreal motion, and entered the building. Michelle found a table in the corner of the patio, near the wall. Her usual spot. Kelly emerged moments later with a large bowl of rose gelato. She set the bowl in front of Michelle and sat down across the table.

"So vhat's up, Meech? You look seriously verried." Michelle couldn't help but smile at the girl's accent. Her mother was French, hence the French café, but her father had a cockney accent. Hearing the two mixed together was amusing.

"I'm taking my boyfriend to Oliver Wood's party," Michelle sighed, grabbing her spoon and digging it into the gelato.

"Zat's great, Meech! Vhen did you get a boyfriend?"

"That's just it. I _don't_ have a boyfriend."

"Vell," Kelly leaned on the table, propping her chin in her hand, "it's going to be very 'ard to bring 'im to a party. Vhy does zis Oliver think you 'ave a boyfriend?"

"Cuz I told him I did…"

"Oh? And vhat is zis fictitious person's name?" she leaned forward, her hands clasped, eyes wide in interest.

"His name's-"

"Kelly!!" A woman's voice shrieked out from the building.

"I'll be right back," Kelly whispered, standing. She ran into the building as Michelle sighed.

"Too bad-" Michelle trailed off as she heard one of the other waiters address the man sitting at the table next to her.

"Your check, Mister Oakenvale." Michelle's eyes grew wide. She glanced to her right, peeking at the young man, and nearly choked on her gelato. He was possibly the most attractive person she had ever seen. He had silver hair cut short in the back but long on top, which swept down across his face and into his emerald green eyes. His skin was pale and flawless, and he was dressed in fitted dark wash jeans and a white t-shirt underneath an open green button-up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, adding a hint of rebellion to the otherwise regal looking man. As Michelle stared, he paid his check and stood. She only realized he was nearly gone when he crossed the street, leaving the café. Michelle sprang to her feet, grabbed her purse and bolted after him.

"Wait!" He ignored her. "Wait!!" Michelle screamed. He turned a corner fifty feet ahead of her. By the time Michelle reached the corner, she found herself standing on a lonely street, with no one in sight. She whipped her head from side to side, scanning for the man, but to no avail. "Just my luck…"

She hadn't taken more than two steps when she heard a horn. Turning, she saw a truck hurtling towards her. But before she could scream, move, or even faint, something collided with her from the side, sending her flying clear into an alley on the side of the street. The truck rushed right past. Michelle groaned, rolling onto her back.

"What is your problem?" The voice was male, American, and condescending.

"My problem?" Michelle glared at the source of the voice to see the man from the café.

"Who the hell are you, anyway?" the man demanded.

"I'm uh…Michelle. Michelle Petty. And you?"

"Silver Oakenvale. What were you thinking, standing in the middle of the street?"

"You're American."

"Yes, you're extremely observant. Now what's wrong with you?"

Michelle could only stare.

AN: Oh ho ho!!! The plot thickens! What do you all think of this latest development? Let me know!! And if you'd like to be kept up-to-date on my story updates, follow me on twitter! /kschultze


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Y…you're name is-"

"Are you normally this articulate or are you making special effort on my account?" Silver glared down at Michelle.

"I need you."

"What?" Silver stepped back with his left leg and raised his right arm in slight defense.

"Sorry, that came out wrong," Michelle waved her hands in front of herself, as if brushing the former sentence away.

"Obviously." Silver crossed his arms.

"What I meant to say was…see, my little sister is in love with this Quidditch player, Oliver Wood. And she used my name to enter a contest and won a lunch for two with him. And naturally I had to go since I technically won. When she went to the bathroom, he started hitting on me, and I panicked and told him I was dating a guy, and he asked for details. Naturally I panicked even more, and said the first name I could think of."

"Silver Oakenvale? That isn't usually on the tip of one's tongue," he shifted his weight to his right leg.

"I looked at the silverware, the table, and then the curtains. It just kinda came out. And then he said he'd never heard of anyone with that name, so I told him of course not, because Silver was American."

"So you chased me from a café because of my name?"

"Well…I have to take Silver Oakenvale to a party…" Michelle looked at her feet as she stood.

"So what? You want me to pose as your boyfriend?" Silver narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah…" Michelle mumbled. "I know it sounds crazy, but I can make it worth your while!" she stepped toward him.

"I'm not into that sort of thing," he said sternly, retreating a step.

"Oh my god, not like that!" Michelle gasped. "I was talking about the party. There'll be lots of food and all that. All you have to do is walk in with me and pretend we're together. I mean, you don't have to snog me every fifteen minutes or anything, just maybe hold my hand a bit and maybe get me a drink or two. But it should be no big deal."

Silver stood in silence. Michelle couldn't tell if he was going to agree or walk away.

"What kind of food?"

"Everything is perfect, Arnold," Oliver said as walked down the entryway's staircase. Elaborate candelabras bore glistening candles, which reflected in the mirrored walls. The dark wood floors were polished and gleaming, just like the tables adorned with food and beverages with crystal ware and more candles.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say the amount of candle light is meant to create a sort of mood, sir," Arnold, Oliver's elderly butler commented as he straightened a painting.

"Arnold," Oliver patted the man's shoulder, "Certain tasks require certain moods. So how do I look?" Oliver stepped back, allowing Arnold a full view of the Quidditch player, from his perfectly coiffed hair to his brand new, tailored dress robes.

"Dashing, young master."

"Perfect."

"So zis boyfriend exists?" Kelly asked.

"Well of course he does, Kelly. What, you think I'd make up something like that?" Michelle chuckled from her bathroom.

"Vell I don't know, you've used zat excuse many times before," the girl shrugged.

"No I haven't," Michelle defended herself. She stepped out of her bathroom, "Help me with the zipper?"

Kelly stood and zipped the dress up, clasping the hook and eye at the top to avoid any wardrobe malfunctions during the evening. She stepped back to appraise her friend. "Foxy," she winked. Michelle turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was wavy and fell to her shoulders. Her dress was dark purple, strapless, empire-waisted, and fell to just above her knees. The fabric itself was silk, giving the dress a very flowy appearance.

"Kelly, you know the best transfiguration spells. Who'da thought that this was really a bedspread?" Michelle grinned.

"I know, I'm awesome. But you don't 'ave time to worship me now, you're date should be 'ere any minute." Kelly grabbed Michelle by the shoulders and steered her down the hallway to the stairs. "'Ang on, Meech," Kelly stepped in front of her friend. "Vhere did you meet zis fellow again?"

"At the mall," she lied.

"Does 'e um…does 'e know you're a vitch?" Michelle paled. She had forgotten all about that. She had become so one-track minded when she heard the name that she didn't think about magic.

"I just say zis because…vell…you're going to a vizard's party. Sings may get a bit sketchy…"

"It'll be fine," Michelle squeaked.

"Meech-" Kelly was cut off by the doorbell. She ran down the stairs to answer it, and as she did, one word made it through Michelle's mind.

Shit.

**AN: Well, I didn't make you wait quite as long on this one. Hope you enjoyed this! Again, kinda left you with a cliff-hanger, but don't worry. My winter break is one week away, so I'll be able to update more often! Love you all!!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"And you must be-" Kelly stopped mid-sentence once the door was open. She stared out at Silver, dressed in a black suit. His silver locks were freshly cut, leaving it short in the back and long on top, sweeping down into his eyes. "sexy…" Kelly muttered, finishing her sentence. "Meech is just about ready," she stepped to the side, allowing Silver entrance to Michelle's home. Michelle had retreated farther into the hallway, away from the front door. She paced back and forth, trying to figure out the best way to handle her current situation.

Back in the entryway, Silver crossed his arms.

"She should be 'ere any minute," Kelly tilted her head, raising her left shoulder slightly. She gave a nervous chuckle, then turned to the stairs, "Meech? Michelle? Your boyfriend is 'ere." No answer. "Meech!" On cue, Michelle hopped out from behind the wall to stand at the top of the stairs.

"Hi, Silver. I was just, uh…finishing my makeup." Michelle cleared her throat awkwardly, remembering that she hadn't bothered to put on any makeup at all. And it was probably obvious.

"Shall we get going, then?" Silver uncrossed his arms and stepped toward the door.

"Um, yeah, let's," Michelle stepped down the stairs and joined him, grabbing her black wool pea coat from the coat rack and slinging it onto her slim body. Silver opened the door with his right hand and placed the other on the small of Michelle's back, leading her out of the house.

"'Ave fun!" Kelly called out after them.

Michelle looked at her driveway to see a black corvette. "Is that…yours?"

"Yeah," Silver moved ahead of her and opened the passenger door, waving for her to climb in. Michelle sat down in the passenger seat and swung her legs in together. Unfortunately, neither she nor Silver paid attention to Michelle's hand, resulting in Silver shutting the door on said hand.

Michelle released a small scream, yanking her hand back as Silver pulled the car door open again, "Oh my god!"

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm fine."

"I am so sorry," Silver knelt down at Michelle's side, reaching out for her injured hand, "Let me see it," he cradled it in his palm as Michelle whimpered lightly. "It's okay, Michelle." Silver's voice was low and comforting. A warm feeling began to blossom in Michelle's palm, extending to her fingertips. When it faded, the pain was gone and her hand was perfectly fine.

Michelle held up her hand, marveling at it, "How did you-"

"That's not important. We've got a party to get to, right?"

"Er, right. Let's go." Michelle closed her door as Silver walked around the vehicle and climbed into the driver's seat. The engine roared to life and took to a low purr as they pulled out of the driveway and started toward the party.

While the drive had been silent and uneventful, their arrival at the party was the exact opposite. They pulled up a curved driveway and parked near the door. As they climbed out and approached the door, it swung open to reveal a gorgeous entryway illuminated by a chandelier and countless candles. The door shut once they were inside, and Oliver came to greet them.

"Michelle! lovely to see you! And this is…?"

"Silver Oakenvale," he introduced himself, offering his right hand to Oliver.

Oliver accepted it with a slightly disappointed look on his face, "Yes, I believe Michelle mentioned you on our lunch date."

"It wasn't a date," Michelle shook her head.

Ignoring her comment, Oliver continued, "I must say, Michelle, you look ravishing. That dress really brings out your lovely eyes," he took her right hand lightly and kissed it, his eyes never leaving Michelle's.

"Oh my…thank you, Mr. Wood."

"Please, call me Oliver. Mister is far too formal for us."

"Right. Um..lovely party," Michelle took her hand back.

"Thank you," Oliver smirked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I'll go get you a drink," Silver said, touching Michelle's arm as he spoke. He left before Michelle could protest and beg him not to leave her alone with this creeper.

Oliver took a step toward Michelle, "I'm very glad you decided to come to my party."

Michelle took a step backward, "Oh, well, I love a good party, you know. So does Silver. He can be such a party animal some times."

He stepped forward again, forcing Michelle against the wall in her attempt to retreat, "Well if you're in the mood to party, we could go upstairs. The mood up there is much more…" he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "uninhibited."

**AN: Again, another cliff hanger. I'm sorry, I love suspense. But hey, you're not going to have to wait very long for the next chapter, so don't worry your pretty little heads too much. If you've got any ideas on how the next chapter's gonna go, I'd love to hear them, so make sure to review!! I'm also taking story requests, so if you'd like me to write a one-shot for you, you can also review and let me know. Love you all! 3**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Michelle stood with her back literally against the wall as Oliver Wood stood, nearly touching her body, staring deep into her eyes. He leaned forward, closing his eyes, and Michelle squinted her eyes shut, fearing the coming kiss. But instead of Oliver, she felt her lips press against glass. Michelle opened her eyes at the same time as Oliver to find a champagne flute separating them. Michelle's eyes traveled to the right to see Silver holding the glass.

"That's my girlfriend, dick," Silver stated. Michelle was so shocked by his bluntness that she couldn't say anything. Oliver backed away and Silver lowered the flute, handing it to Michelle.

"I see you're no exception to the typical rude American behavior," Oliver muttered.

"And I see you're no exception to the rich womanizing athlete behavior," Silver crossed his arms, stepping toward the brunette. Silver stood two inches taller and had a slightly broader frame. Michelle gulped.

"Shall we take this outside, Yank?" Oliver's eyes narrowed and he mirrored Silver's stance.

"Uh, guys, there's no need for anything like that," Michelle tried to calm the tension. "Nothing happened, no harm no foul. Right, Silver?"

He turned to Michelle, "Some guy tries to force himself on my girlfriend and I'm supposed to let it go? I don't think so, sweetheart." Michelle gulped again. Maybe Silver was taking the fake-boyfriend thing too far.,,

"I'll take you anytime, anywhere," Oliver challenged to the American standing before him.

"Bring it on," Silver stepped forward again.

"Silver," Michelle tried a different tactic, stepping between the two and placing her hands on Silver's chest, "darling, it's not worth it. It's okay," she kissed him gently on the lips, standing on her tiptoes and still barely reaching. Michelle allowed the kiss to linger, and when their lips parted, she stared deep into his green eyes. A faint blush crept across her cheeks as the tall American stared back at her intently.

"If you say so, angel," Silver brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. Michelle's blush deepened. Silver shot a glare above Michelle's head at Oliver, who retreated on the excuse of making sure the party was all in order.

"Wow, you were really convincing," Michelle whispered.

"I do what I can," Silver shrugged, avoiding eye contact with Michelle.

"Well…we've made an appearance and you've made it clear that I'm not available, so I guess we can leave if you'd like," Michelle clasped her hands behind her back, looking at the floor and inspecting her shoe.

"Sure. Let's go," Silver placed his hand on the small of Michelle's back, as he had done back at her house, and led her to the car. This time, he opened the door, allowed her to climb in, and made sure that her hands were well out of the way before he shut the door. As he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, he turned to her, "You hungry?"

"Um, yeah, a bit," Michelle gave a small nod.

"Alright," Silver pulled out of Oliver's driveway and turned right, the opposite direction of Michelle's house.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Michelle glanced from Silver to the road and back to Silver. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to be alone with a man that she barely knew…

"You can relax, Michelle, I'm not going to kidnap you or anything. I'm just taking you to dinner."

"Oh no, I knew that," she lied.

"But that's not what you were thinking?" Silver ventured.

"Well, I mean, it's just…You know, we don't really know each other, and…I'm sure you underst-"

"Relax, Michelle."

"So um…where are we going to eat?"

"My house."

"What?"

"I told you. Relax. If I had any bad intentions for you you'd probably know by now, Michelle."

Michelle's stomach fluttered. The way he said her name sounded like a purr. No one had ever said her name like that before, and she'd often disliked her name because of how normal it sounded. But Silver's voice was low, warm, almost like chocolate.

"Here we are," Silver parked the corvette in a driveway. Michelle looked up to see a house comparable to Oliver's.

"You live here?"

"For now. I'm only in England for the rest of the year." Silver climbed out of the car and walked around to open the door for Michelle. He offered his hand, which she accepted, and he helped her out of the car.

"Thank you."

"Mmhmm. This way." Silver led Michelle to the front door and unlocked it, opening the door and ushering Michelle inside.

Michelle's jaw dropped. The floors were rich wood, and the entryway was decorated with gold and burgundy. "Wow. It's like the Gryffindor common room," she muttered.

"Gryffindor?" Silver asked, looking over his shoulder from the entrance to the living room.

"Oh, uh…It's a…clan…from an…online…role playing game." Mental face palm. He probably thought she sounded like a complete idiot.

"Which one?" Silver continued his questioning.

"Which one?" she repeated, "Well…It's called…Hogwarts. It's a game where you…you're a wizard or witch and you have to…learn spells and all that and go on little quests in an enchanted forest…and a little village…thing." Another mental face palm.

"Huh." Silver turned back and walked into the living room. Michelle followed him through the living room and into the kitchen. "So what're you in the mood for?"

"Me? Well…I'm not picky, so whatever you'd like is fine with me," Michelle shrugged.

"Chinese leftovers it is." Silver pulled a few boxes of Chinese takeout out of the fridge and placed them on the counter. He froze. "Michelle, I've gotta level with you."

"What?"

"You know you're hand? How I sorta…broke it?" Silver placed his hands wide on the counter.

"Well it's not broken-"

"Exactly. See…I'm a wizard."

**AN: Oh my! How will Michelle react? And how will Oliver take to having his target ditching his party? I can tell you he won't be happy ((mwahaha)). Again, reviews are love! And love makes me write! I love you all! 3**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Dear lord it's been a long time since I've update this. Many apologies! **

Chapter 7

Michelle burst out laughing.

"I'm serious, Michelle," Silver sounded almost hurt.

Her laughing intensified and she fell to the ground.

"Michelle?" Silver walked around the island to see Michelle lying on her back, still laughing. "I'm being serious!"

"I know," she panted out. Her laughter calmed enough for her to speak, "I know. It's just funny cuz…I'm a witch." She looked up at him from her spot on the wood floor.

"What?"

"Yeah," she pulled her wand from its hidden holster under the skirt of her dress and held it up for him to see. "You see? Willow with a unicorn's hair. Got it from Olivander's." A few chuckles surfaced.

Silver bent down, grabbed Michelle under the arms, and pulled her to her feet. "What're the chances?" he muttered.

"I know, right? I was so nervous about tonight because I was worried that something would happen and you'd freak out. Which wouldn't have been good at all because I told Oliver that you were a wizard and he would've known I lied about the whole thing."

"I thought for sure you would've been suspicious after I healed your hand," Silver crossed his arms and tilted his head to the left.

"Well you didn't use a wand," Michelle shrugged.

"We don't use wands in the U.S. We're taught wandless and mostly wordless magic."

"Lucky! It would be so much more convenient to not have to pull out a wand and mutter spells for everything."

Silver hopped onto the island and pulled his suit jacket off, "Oh trust me it is. I can do tons of spells with just a wave of my hand." As an illustration, he held his jacket in one hand and waved the other. The jacket flew out of his hand and whisked itself out of the room, presumably upstairs to Silver's closet.

"Nifty," Michelle breathed.

"It is," Silver agreed. He patted the countertop and Michelle hopped up to sit next to him.

"So are you going to show me some more wandless magic and prepare our Chinese?" Michelle smiled.

"Indeed I shall," Silver faked a British accent, warranting a laugh from the petite brunette next to him. With a wave of his hand, dishes came out of the cupboards, setting themselves next to the leftovers. The food dished itself onto the plates and warmed as the dishes hovered and floated to Silver and Michelle's hands.

"Wow."

"Fork?" Silver flourished his hand, producing two eating utensils out of nothing.

"Don't mind if I do," she plucked a fork from between Silver's fingers and began eating her food. "This is really good!"

"Thank you. I slaved for hours over the stove," the young man chuckled.

Michelle slipped inside her house and shut the door gently. She breathed a sigh of relief, but the light flicked on, causing the breath to hitch in her throat. Cecily stood at the top of stairs, glaring down at Michelle. It was a menacing sight, even though Cecily was wearing pink pajamas and matching bunny slippers.

"Cecily, I thought you were sleeping over at Danielle's…"

"I was _supposed_ to, but I got a headache and came home. Where have you been?" the child demanded.

"I've been, uh…out…"

"Oh yeah? Why are you dressed up?" Cecily descended the stairs and approached Michelle. She gasped and her eyes blazed with rage, "Why do you smell like Oliver Wood?" Michelle's brow furrowed, as she would have thought she smelled more like Silver than Oliver, considering she had spent most of the evening at his side.

"How do you know what Oliver Wood smells like?" Michelle stared down at her younger sister.

"He is my future husband, Michelle! There is nothing I _don't_ know about him!" Cecily stomped her foot and stiffened her arms at her sides. "Now I demand to know why, _exactly_, you smell like him!"

"You want the truth?"

"Obviously!" Cecily rolled her eyes.

"Alright then. I went to a party at Oliver Wood's house. I went with a date." Cecily opened her mouth to object.

"That wasn't Oliver," Michelle added before Cecily could speak.

"Then who were you with?" the younger girl's eyes narrowed.

"His name is Silver. Silver Oakenvale. He's an American wizard on holiday here. We met at Kelly's."

Cecily pondered the new information for a few minutes, "I see. Well, as long as you're not trying to steal my fiancé-"

"Cecily, you're not engaged to-" Michelle was cut off by Cecily's hand being held right in front of her face.

"Did I say you could speak? No. Now if you'll let me finish," Cecily returned her hand to her side, "As long as you're not trying to steal my fiancé, I will permit you to see this American wizard."

"Honest? Because you know I would never do _anything_ without your express permission!" Michelle's voice dripped in sarcastic enthusiasm. Cecily glared.

"Well if you'll excuse me," the younger girl turned and began up the stairs, "I'm going to back to bed. I'm not to be disturbed until nine A.M. tomorrow morning." She turned into the hallway, out of sight from the foot of the stairs.

"She is such a freak…" Michelle muttered to herself, still staring at the top of the stairs.

**AN: Hope you liked it. Please remember to R&R, as it really encourages me to keep updating! **


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: To head off any "Oliver's OOC!" comments, I'd like to let you all know that this **_**isn't**_** the schoolboy Oliver. He's been out of Hogwarts for a while; he's been living the life of a professional athlete, so he's changed a bit. That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Chapter 8

Michelle shook her head, smiling at her sister's unparalleled creepiness. She dropped her purse near the door and kicked her shoes off, walking into the kitchen to get a drink. The lights were off, but it didn't matter. It was her house and she knew her way around. She opened the door to the refrigerator and bent down to look for a suitable beverage. She finally settled on peach flavored iced tea, pulling the pitcher out of the fridge and turning to set it on the island.

She screamed, nearly dropping the pitcher of iced tea on the floor, as the light from the refrigerator fell upon the face of none other than Oliver Wood.

"I told you I'm trying to sleep!" Cecily's voice came, slightly muffled, from upstairs. Michelle merely stared as Oliver smirked at her.

Finally regaining her voice, Michelle blinked and set the pitcher on the counter, "How the hell did you get into my house?"

"Apparition, sweetie," he smiled. Damn he had a nice smile.

"Does Cecily know you're here?" she shut the refrigerator door.

"Of course not," Oliver looked at Michelle like she was insane, "She'd go rabid if she knew I was here. When she made that comment about you smelling like me, I thought for sure she'd figure out I was in your kitchen." Oliver approached Michelle, his movements smooth and confident, "But I guess you really do smell like me."

Michelle backed into the fridge, unable to retreat any more, as Oliver came closer, their bodies almost touching. The tall keeper leaned down and Michelle could feel his breath on her cheek.

"You're really creepy, you know that?" her voice quivered slightly. Oliver dropped his head, nearly resting it on Michelle's shoulder, before straightening up, keeping his body close to Michelle's.

"You know most girls would get all giggly and excited if they found me in their kitchen."

"I'm not most girls," Michelle mentally kicked herself for saying something so cliché.

"No, you're not," Oliver played along, using a reply just as cliché. "And that's why I want you," he leaned down again, his lips only a breath away from Michelle's.

"You…want me?" Michelle breathed out.

"Oh yes," the tall young man closed his eyes, exhaling.

"Do you know what I want?" Michelle, tilted her head opposite Oliver's, leaning in ever so slightly.

Oliver leaned in right as Michelle slipped to the side, moving from in between Oliver and the fridge, "Iced tea. I'm parched." Oliver's forehead quietly '_thunked'_ against the stainless steel refrigerator and he grunted in exasperation.

"I don't get you," he turned to lean against the fridge and watched her get a glass from a cupboard and fill it with iced tea. "Girls don't brush me off like you do. You really know how to play, don't you," he smirked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Michelle sipped her iced tea, looking at Oliver with wide, innocent eyes.

"Oh I think you do," he crossed his arms. "So tell me about this boyfriend of yours. Cecily acted as if she'd never heard of him."

Michelle nearly choked on her drink. That's right, he had heard the conversation with her sister.

"Cecily doesn't remember anything about my love life. All she's concerned with is you, your wedding, and your married life."

Oliver paled, looking slightly sick, "That girl needs help. First off, she's far too young, second, she's downright creepy."

"So is sneaking into someone's house in the middle of the night."

"Touché…" Oliver glanced at his feet, his brow furrowed. He looked back at Michelle, shrugging, "So maybe a midnight visit wasn't the most logical thing to do, but I did want to see you again. Maybe get that kiss I tried for earlier," he winked.

"Not likely," Michelle smiled. "You know it's not polite to try and steal kisses from girls that don't like you."

"Well how about asking for a kiss from a girl that could be persuaded to like me," Oliver stepped forward, his head tilted and eyes playful.

"Cecily's upstairs," Michelle took a sip of iced tea.

Oliver chuckled, "Alright, not tonight I guess. But…I just want you to know…When I agreed to do that lunch contest, I expected a fan like Cecily, not someone like you. You're refreshing. You don't treat me like some big star. You don't fawn all over me, you don't throw yourself at me-"

"Which is the only reason you like me," Michelle shifted her weight to her right leg, looking up at Oliver. "You like a challenge, and I'm not into you, so you want to win me over. It's typical guy behavior," Michelle shrugged.

"Thank you for the analysis, Miss Petty. What do I owe you for this session?" the young man's tone was slightly offended. "You're not just some mountain to climb. Not to me," he approached her slowly, sincerity permeating every word he spoke.

Michelle shifted her weight to her left leg, a half-hearted attempt to retreat from the keeper's advances.

"The second you walked into the restaurant, something changed. The world's paled in comparison to you. When I saw you at the party tonight…You were all I could see. Your scent, your voice, it's all intoxicating. You're the strongest magic I've ever seen or experienced." Oliver was now standing so close to Michelle they could were a breath apart. The tiniest waver in one's posture would bring them to touch.

"Is that…from a movie or something?" Michelle could barely think, but she had to say something. If this kept up, who knew what could happen? But try as she might, she couldn't actually bring herself to move away.

"No," Oliver whispered, shaking his head ever so slightly. "Michelle…I would really like to kiss you right now."

**AN: Dun dun dun! :3 What will happen? Will Oliver finally get to kiss Michelle? Is he being serious about all of this? Is Michelle starting to believe him? And what about Silver? Stay tuned!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Michelle's breath hitched in her throat as she stood impossibly close to the tall young man in her kitchen. He reached up and brushed her hair behind her ear, trailing his hand down from her ear to rest ever so gently on the nape of her neck.

"May I?" he whispered, his breath hot on her skin. Michelle opened her mouth to respond-

"Elle! ELLE! THERE'S A SPIDER!" Cecily shrieked from upstairs. Michelle had jumped at the noise, breaking herself from Oliver's trance.

"I have to go," she whispered, turning to go upstairs. She stopped at the kitchen doorway and turned to look at Oliver, "I trust you can let yourself out?" Her voice was just above a whisper, but it was sincere. The keeper nodded, biting his lip, and apparated out of the house.

Michelle took care of the spider quickly, employing one of her sneakers, and went to her room. She had been there for three hours, but all she could think about was Oliver and their moment earlier that night. The more she thought about it, the creepier it seemed. But it also seemed more and more romantic. He'd been passionate, almost desperate. Seeing such a well-known and prominent athlete in such a state made Michelle feel that she had witnessed a truly intimate moment.

But what about Silver? She had just been at his place, sharing yet another romantic part of the evening. All of this led to Michelle lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. How on earth did she get caught in a love triangle? Her friends had been tangled in situations like this, but Michelle herself had only ever been an observer.

Sighing, Michelle closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands, "Boys suck."

The next morning, Michelle woke up wearing her dress from the night before. She didn't even remember falling asleep. Rolling onto her side, she caught a glimpse of herself in her vanity mirror and nearly laughed. With the fancy dress, bed head and smudged eye makeup, she looked like a model in a perfume advertisement. She experimented with her discovery by making angsty faces at her reflection.

"Now if only I had a half-dressed hottie here, it'd be the real deal." The moment the words left her mouth, two images flashed into her head. One of a half-dressed Silver lurking over her in a dark yet sexy manner, and another of Oliver holding her close in a rather intimate embrace. Michelle bolted upright when she realized how she was envisioning Oliver. She didn't think about him like that. She never had! Now thinking about Silver in that sort of way was understandable. He was attractive, confident, and…well…American. It was such a novelty. But so was a professional athlete. Okay, she needed to get her mind off of this.

Michelle got out of bed and took off her dress. Who would have thought that a tablecloth could become something so glamorous? Speaking of which, Michelle made a note to herself, she needed to find Kelly and tell her all about the previous night. She changed quickly, exchanging her dress for a pair of skinny jeans and a plaid, empire waisted tank top. She slipped into her shoes as she ran toward the front door, pausing when she caught her reflection in the hall mirror. She had forgotten all about the smudged makeup, but took a few seconds to wipe her eyeliner into a finer line before running out the door.

She arrived at the café shortly after leaving her house, but didn't find Kelly waiting tables as she expected. Michelle walked up to the counter where Kelly's mother was restocking pastries. After a short conversation, Michelle was on her way upstairs to wake up an apparently exhausted young witch. Pushing the door open, Michelle gaped at the sight in front of her.

The room was destroyed. The sheets were ripped off of the bed, which had stuffing strewn across the floor. Picture frames were smashed, the curtains were hanging by one end for dear life, and shards of mirror littered the debris. In all of this, Michelle could barely find Kelly, who was naked and curled up in the corner where her desk- now a pile of wood and folders- used to be.

"Kelly?" Michelle rushed to her friend's side, "What happened? Kelly!" She shook her, worried for a moment that she wouldn't respond.

But she was relieved to find that Kelly groaned, rolling over. Michelle grabbed the remnants of Kelly's comforter and covered her, helping her sit up.

"What happened?"

"I really didn't want you to see zis."

"Kelly, _what happened_?"

"It's…..it's zat time of the month," Kelly avoided eye contact.

"This is the result of PMS?" Michelle's eyebrows arched in disbelief.

"No. It's _zat time of the month_," Kelly locked eyes with Michelle, her voice lower than normal and dead serious.

As realization dawned on Michelle, she flopped down next to her friend.

"Oh my god. You're…You're a werewolf."

"Yeah…Listen, you can't tell anybody. If people found out-"

"Don't worry, Kelly, I won't tell anyone. I just…why didn't you tell me? Why did I find out this way?"

"Well…I didn't vant anybody to know. Verevolves aren't exactly accepted."

"Yeah but to find out like this? I mean…Your room is _wrecked_. I thought you were dead, or missing or something."

"I'm normally avake and recovered by now."

"How do you keep yourself in your room?"

"Normally I'm outside, at ze family villa in Normandy. We have a farm zere, it's great for my condition."

"Then why weren't you there last night?"

Kelly paused, shifting her weight away from Michelle and standing, clutching the comforter to her body. She walked to her closet, which bore claw marks but remained on its hinges.

"Zere's someone here, hunting us."

"Us…?"

"Ze other verevolves. Someone's here and killing us off," Kelly pulled on clothes, Michelle remaining on the floor and staring at mirror shards scattered across the floor.

"…Killing….But why?"

"Vell whoever zey are, zey vait until ve transform and zey attack, so it's technically sort of alright in ze ministry's eyes."

Michelle stood to face the now-dressed Kelly, "But that's still wrong! Werewolves are people too."

"Not on ze full moon," Kelly pushed past Michelle, grabbing her wand from under the mattress. She muttered a spell and flourished her wand, causing the furniture, decorations, and various items in the bedroom to move and repair themselves. Within a matter of minutes the room was returned to its normal state and Kelly nodded her head in approval.

"So you stayed here in case whoever's killing werewolves was in Normandy?"

"Unlikely, I know, but I'd rather stay indoors zan risk my life to run around outside."

"Understandable," Michelle shrugged. "So you don't have any idea who it is?"

"No one does. Ve've gone into hiding because of it." Kelly, who had turned to leave her room, stopped in her tracks. "It's not fun to be scared, Meech."

Michelle stepped forward and hugged the older witch, who returned the hug, "I can imagine."

**AN: Questions? Thoughts? Concerns? Reviews are love! 3**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

**AN: I'm SO sorry it's been so long 3: I really hope you guys like this chapter, and I'll be doing my best to update this fic regularly**

So someone was hunting Michelle's best friend. Not cool. Kelly was in danger, and Michelle was pretty much helpless. The two sat at a table on the café patio, silently eating some fish and chips. They exchanged glances every few minutes, Michelle hoping that Kelly would talk more about her being a werewolf. It was Kelly that broke the silence, but she didn't mention what was on Michelle's mind…

"So how was your evening?" she inquired.

"Good. Interesting. But good."

"Did you kiss Oliver?"

"No-"

"Silver?"

"No-"

"Then how was that a good night?"

"I don't have to kiss someone to have a good night, Kelly."

"Oh, right," Kelly drawled her last word out, coating it in all the sarcasm she had. She then sat back in her chair, her eyebrows drawing together as she bit her lip.

"What's up, Kelly?" Michelle shifted forward her in seat.

"How long has Silver been in the UK?"

"He said a couple months, why?"

"It's just…he's American, he's been here about the same amount of time as someone's been hunting us…"

"What? You can't honestly be suggesting that Silver is the one hunting…" Michelle glanced around before hissing, "Werewolves!"

"I'm just saying it's a possibility!" Kelly raised her hands, miming defense against Michelle's hushed but harsh tone.

"Well it's…erroneous." Thank god for words of the day. Had Michelle not gotten one of those calendars from her aunt two birthdays ago, she wouldn't have known the word existed.

"Nice vocabulary, Meech. I wouldn't have thought of that one," Kelly complimented. She appreciated proper use of uncommon words, and was known to throw cupcakes at first years that had large vocabularies.

"Thank you," Michelle tilted her head and smiled. "But seriously. You don't think it's Silver, do you?"

"Well I don't know. I haven't really met the guy yet. But it is a huge coincidence that he happened to arrive when the hunting began," she shrugged.

"I could try to find out. In fact, I _should_ try to find out. I barely know the guy," Michelle leaned back in her chair, pulling her right foot up onto the seat.

"Ooooh, you'll be like a spy! We should give you and Silver code names. And we need to name the mission. How 'bout….operation Wolf's Bane? And we'll call you…"

"I already have a nickname. But I do like Wolf's Bane."

"We'll call you Sheepie!" Kelly ignored her friend.

"What? What does that have to do with any of this?"

"Here's what we'll do. You'll pretend that you're a werewolf. Y'know, let it slip to Silver. We'll set up a sting on the next full moon. You'll go to an abandoned barn, hide, and then we'll trap him if he follows!"

"And then what'll you do with him?"

"Well….if he has been hunting us, he'll have to face justice for it."

"So you'll be reporting him to the Ministry?"

"No. The Ministry isn't involved in our affairs," Kelly bristled at the Michelle's mention of the Ministry of Magic. Michelle was slightly taken aback by the venom in Kelly's voice. She had never heard that tone come from her friend, even when discussing rival houses or Quidditch matches or bad movies.

"So…what would you do with him if he's the hunter?"

Kelly leaned forward, lowering her voice to make sure even the rare passersby on the street wouldn't hear their conversation, "If he is the hunter, he'll be taken to the Lycan Court where he'll be put on trial and sentenced."

"Lycan Court? So werewolves have their own judicial system?"

"Yes. We're not all unruly beasts like the Ministry tends to claim," Kelly crossed her arms. A group of young teenagers sat down at the surrounding tables out on the café patio. "We should go inside. I assume you have more questions?" Kelly stood, leading Michelle into the café and up to her room. They walked inside and closed Kelly's bedroom door.

"So tell me more about werewolves. What's the social structure like?" The tall Gryffindor passed Michelle and flopped down onto her bed and motioned for Michelle to sit.

"Well, there are Alphas, Betas, intermediate, and Omegas. Alphas are the leaders. Like the popular kids in schools, except they have authority over every wolf in their pack. Betas are just below Alphas. They have some authority, but they have to get permission from the Alphas. The intermediates don't really have rank. They're just kinda there. The Omegas have the crappy role. They're like the mathletes in school. Pretty much everyone picks on them."

"So what's your rank?" Michelle inquired.

"Guess," Kelly said playfully.

"Well you're definitely not an Omega."

"Correct."

"I think I'd have to say….I don't know, I mean how common are all of the Alphas and Betas and intermediates?"

"Well each pack has two Alphas. One male, one female. The amount of Betas kind of varies from pack to pack. There are at least two, though. And then the intermediates are whatever's left."

"Well…I don't know, are you an intermediate?" Michelle justified that guess, seeing as how Kelly usually wasn't responsible enough to be in charge of too many people, and there were obviously more intermediates than Alphas and Betas combined.

"Nope," Kelly smiled widely.

"Beta?"

"Nope," her smile grew.

"Alpha?" Michelle asked incredulously. But…at school, you couldn't even lead the Ancient Runes Club. And there were only four other people!"

"Michelle, I'm hurt! Number one, those four other people happened to be first years who thought they were in the Activity and Rambunctious Club."

"That's not even a real club-"

"That's what I said!"

"So you're really an Alpha?"

"Yep."

"So…so how many werewolves are in your pack?"

Kelly silently counted on her fingers, flipping her digits up and down multiple times, "In the greater London area, about seventy," she shrugged.

"Seventy?" Michelle's voice was louder than she intended it to be. I didn't know we had that many in London."

"That's just downtown London," Kelly propped herself up on her elbows. "My pack covers London through Brighton, Oxford, Cambridge, and Southend-on-Sea."

"Seriously? Wow. I had no idea you had that much influence."

"Well my wolves and I are very discreet. The ones at Hogwarts know better than to acknowledge the pack."

"We have more wolves at Hogwarts? Who?"

"Sorry, Meech, but I can't say. I have a pact with my pack. We don't discuss identities with outsiders. You're my best friend, but a promise is a promise," Kelly shrugged.

"Fair enough." Michelle opened her mouth to ask another question, but left her mouth hanging as she looked out the window to see Oliver Wood, hovering on a broom outside of Kelly's window. She lunged forward, opening the window and dragging the brown-haired Quidditch player inside, his broom following. It had been easy to pull him inside, as he had originally been on his broom, but once he was no longer seated on it Michelle found herself unable to support his full weight. The two toppled to the floor, Oliver on top of Michelle. Kelly sat upright, staring down at them.

"Hi," Oliver smiled, glancing down at the slender Gryffindor beneath him.

"Can't…breathe…." Oliver lifted most of his weight by propping himself on his forearms, but didn't get off of Michelle.

"Better?"

"It would be best if you got off of me," Michelle retorted. She looked up into his dark brown eyes and blushed. With their bodies pressed together like this, she could feel his abdominal muscles against her flat stomach. His body was warm, and he smelled like vanilla. Michelle did like vanilla. And with Oliver so close, the smell was intoxicating.

"You sure that's what you really want?" Oliver whispered, his lips brushing her left ear lobe with each word. When he finished his seductive question, he slowly pulled his head back to look in Michelle's eyes, his lips grazing her jaw line. Michelle opened her mouth to speak, but found herself incapable of forming words. Oliver smiled and shifted his weight to his right arm, using his left to caress down Michelle's side to find its way under her thigh, lifting it so her knee bent and her leg pressed against the keeper's side. Michelle's breathing grew shallow and her cheeks grew redder. Oliver leaned down again, grazing his lips across her collarbone.

"Hot." Oliver jolted when he heard Kelly's voice. Even Michelle stiffened. They hadn't realized they were being watched. "Oh don't worry, you can keep going," the Gryffindor girl coaxed.

"Pervert," Michelle gaped at her friend.

**AN: Stay tuned! And review! 3**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Hey, you're the ones about to get it on right in front of me. Teases," Kelly threw a pillow at Michelle and Oliver.

"We were not about to 'get it on'!" Michelle pushed Oliver off of her, and the keeper rolled onto his back.

"Uh huh, right. Tell that to the leg you had wrapped around him."

"It was not wrapped around him, it was just-"

"Almost wrapped around me," Oliver interrupted, winking. "Yeah, still in the room, ladies."

"Oh, trust me honey, I didn't forget," Kelly raised her eyebrows at him.

"Still not as creepy as your sister," he glanced over to Michelle.

Michelle shrugged, as if debating which was creepier. She stood up and sat on the edge of Kelly's bed, "So why are you here, Oliver?"

"I'm here for you, of course. I was thinking I could take you out for lunch, or dinner, or a walk, or-"

"God you are persistent. How did you know I was here?" Michelle crossed her arms. Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but his mouth morphed into a grimace as he searched for an answer that wouldn't seem strange.

"I….may have…maybe followed you?" Oliver avoided eye contact.

"So you're spying on me now? God, first you break into my house and now you're stalking me. Fantastic. You know I bet the Prophet would love to hear about this," Michelle stood over the keeper, surprisingly menacing. But rather than cower and apologize, Oliver surprised the Gryffindor girl.

"You're cute when you're mad. I should upset you more often," he teased.

"Oh he's adorable, Meech. You should at least do lunch."

"Meech?" the keeper glanced at Kelly, then back to Michelle, "That's cute. Mind if I use that?"

"Yes I do mind! It happens to be a very special nickname," Michelle crossed her arms again.

"Well then," Oliver stood, bringing himself mere inches from Michelle's body, "I'll have to make up a nickname for you." His voice was so smooth when he said things like that. Once again his scent wrapped around Michelle, dominating her senses. Oliver slowly and gently grabbed Michelle's wrists, guiding them down to her sides, and inched closer. He took her chin in his left hand and gazed down at her, their eyes locking. His right hand released her wrist and slid around her waist, resting low on her back. He used that hand to pull Michelle closer, finding it easy to guide her toward his body.

The keeper chuckled quietly, "You know you keep saying that you don't like me, that you want me to leave, and yet you're oh-so-willing to press yourself against me and let me hold you like this." He leaned down to whisper in her ear, "What would your boyfriend think?"

At that, Michelle shoved Oliver away, "How dare you? I don't even have-" Oliver raised his eyebrows. "I don't even have words to describe how rude you are," she stammered.

"Nice save," Kelly winked, her voice just loud enough to be heard by both Michelle and Oliver.

"Save? Y'know I can't help shake the feeling that you don't have a boyfriend. I mean, it's awfully convenient, don't you think? You just happen to have a boyfriend with such a strange name and he just happens to be American, so naturally no one would know him." Oliver turned to Kelly, "How long have Michelle and Silver been dating?"

Kelly's eyes widened and she glanced to Michelle, then back to Oliver, "I-uh…I'm not too sure. They dated a while before they became exclusive. Does it count from when they started dating or when they became exclusive? Or do you want when they became Facebook official?"

"What's Facebook?" the keeper looked puzzled.

"Oh it's this muggle thing, it's great. It's a social networking website where you can add friends and talk to them online and post pictures and videos and make events. It's really handy when you want to keep in contact with people you don't go to school with or people you don't work with, even if you do. There are also games that you can play, it's a lot of fun."

"Huh. Facebook."

Michelle stared open-mouthed at Kelly. She had managed to completely dodge the question and change the subject.

"So tell me, when did you become obsessed with Michelle?" Kelly inquired.

"I wouldn't say I'm obsessed," Oliver waved his hand, trying to dismiss Kelly's claim.

"Yet you immediately asked her out, asked her to a dinner party at your house, showed up in her kitchen, and followed her to a friend's house? Yeah that is totally not obsessed."

"You told her about our encounter in the kitchen?" Oliver smirked at Michelle.

"Only as a form of therapy from the horrific shock," Michelle spat back.

"I'm wounded," Oliver held his hand to his heart, feigning insult. He turned back to Kelly, "What else has she told you about me?"

"Not a whole lot," she shrugged. "We've been talking mostly about Silver for the past…" Kelly mimed counting on her fingers, "…long time."

"Is that so?" he sounded disappointed and…jealous?

"Oh yeah, Michelle's got it bad. You're gonna have to work hard, boy," Kelly winked at him.

Oliver smirked and looked down to Michelle, "I think I can do that. So how 'bout it? Lunch? Dinner? A walk? A romantic afternoon, evening and night on the beach?" His voice was low and seductive and as he spoke, he lightly caressed Michelle's right arm.

"Yeah, now pull her close and kiss her," Kelly instructed.

Michelle whirled around to face her friend, "Oh my god, Kelly, you're a total pervert!"

"No," Kelly flopped down onto her stomach on the bed, "I'm just creative. And helpful. And instructive," she smiled. Michelle flashed her a warning glance, which the older girl countered by raising her eyebrows, propping her chin in her hands and crossing her ankles in the air behind her. She played the innocent part well, but Michelle knew better. She turned back to face Oliver, who's brown eyes were intense and seemed to cut through her like a hot knife in butter.

"I think you should go, Oliver."

"Not until you agree to either lunch or dinner."

"You're incorrigible," Michelle huffed.

"You know you love it," he flashed a winning smile that made Michelle's stomach flutter. "Come on, Michelle. Lunch or dinner. It's an easy decision," he crossed his arms and widened his stance, making it obvious that he wouldn't leave until he had a satisfactory answer.

"Alright, lunch. Happy?"

"Very," his smile widened. He stooped down to grab his broom off of the floor and walked over to the window, climbing up on Kelly's desk. "I'll pick you up at seven." And with that, he hopped out of the window, flying off. Kelly and Michelle rushed to the window to watch him soar off out of sight.

"He is so lucky there weren't muggles around-" Michelle stopped short when she looked down to see a young woman- blonde-haired, tall and slender- staring off into the distance where Oliver had vanished. She traced his path to the window and saw the girls, her mouth hanging open. The Gryffindors' eyes widened as they realized Oliver's bold move had been witnessed. They threw themselves back from the window and Kelly closed it, pulling the blinds and curtains shut.

"Oh my god. We have to obliviate her. Come on!" Kelly called as she ran from her room, thundering down the stairs to the café. She practically ran into the young woman, who had run into the café to find them. Kelly grabbed her wrist and dragged her out at a pace that Michelle could barely match. The two witches led the stranger into a nearby alley.

"What the hell was that?" the blonde demanded, "That guy just flew away on a broom! What's going on? Am I being punked?" She had an American accent, and seemed to fit the American stereotype of a rich debutante. She was dressed in white wedge heels, which only exaggerated her long, thin legs. She wore navy blue high-waisted shorts with a white t-shirt tucked in, and a navy blue blazer with the cuffs rolled once. Her long blonde hair fell in glamorous curls halfway down her back, and she pushed her over-sized sunglasses up onto her head to hold her hair back as she stared at Kelly and Michelle.

**AN: Cliffhanger! :D**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"I demand to know what's going on!" the blonde nearly screamed.

"God, so American. Always entitled. You should be ashamed of yourself for enforcing such a negative stereotype on your nation," Kelly reprimanded the girl, waving her finger in the stranger's face.

"Well I'm sorry, but-"

"See? Now was that so hard? All it takes is a small apology to repair diplomatic relations. I'm sure your country is grateful to you, Miss….?"

"Amanda Miranda," the blonde's face was blank as Kelly took her hand, shaking it enthusiastically.

"Seriously?" Michelle gaped.

"Yes, seriously," Amanda hissed. "_Now_ who's the rude one?"

"You're quite right, Amanda. Michelle, that was terribly rude," Kelly tapped Michelle on the nose. The words and action seemed to please Amanda, as she smiled at Kelly and pulled her heels together, shifting her weight toward the taller witch.

"So what are your names?"

"I'm Kelly, and this is Michelle."

"Nice to meet you," Amanda reached out to shake their hands, and they accepted. Michelle breathed a sigh of relief. Once again, Kelly had managed to divert the conversation to something completely unrelated, and Michelle could see that Kelly had slipped her wand out and was getting ready to obliviate the American.

"So would you mind telling me why some guy jumped out of your window and flew off on a broom?"

She had thought too soon.

"What are you talking about?" Kelly froze, wand in hand behind her back.

"That…_dreamy_ man." Michelle narrowed her eyes at Amanda, "He jumped out of your window. I saw you two in the window watching him fly away. How the hell did he do it?"

"Oh. Ohoho. That. Right, well…You see, Oliver is a…he's a-"

"Oliver? That's so hot. Such a British name," Amanda smiled and wrinkled her nose, her eyes sparkling. "How old is he?"

"Are you _interested_ in Oliver?" Michelle inquired.

"Well yeah who wouldn't be? He's a stud.

"Oh yeah? I hadn't noticed," Kelly rolled her eyes, glancing at Michelle.

"So you two are friends with him? Is he dating anyone? He looks like the kind of guy that would hook up quite a bit. Is he? Cuz I have to tell you, I've been in England for a week now and haven't gotten any."

"He is _not_ the type to hook up!" Michelle nearly screamed. Amanda took a step back.

"What Michelle means is that Oliver's taken," Kelly slid between the girls, her back to Michelle as she fanned her hands out in a casual manner.

"Oh yeah? By who?" Amanda squared her hips, looking Kelly right in the eye.

"Michelle, actually. The two haven't been dating long, and she's a bit insecure. Y'know, the whole dating above your league thing, she's worried he might move on or something." Michelle's jaw dropped at what Kelly said, and when she was finished, the older girl received a stomp on the foot.

"He is not out of my league!"

"Let's be honest, kid, he is," Amanda flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder, practically posing.

"Oh yeah well then why is he dating me?" Michelle stepped around Kelly.

"Honestly? I have no idea," Amanda raised an eyebrow as she looked Michelle up and down.

"Ohokay," Kelly moved between the two girls again, a hand on each of their shoulders, "Let's play nice. For the sake of international diplomacy, we'll pretend we didn't hear your last few sentences," she looked at Amanda.

"Whatever," was all Amanda gave as a response. She walked off toward the café, and Kelly pulled her wand from her sleeve. She was about to cast an obliviate spell, but a group of boys walked out of a sporting goods shop a few doors down. She quickly tucked her wand back into her sleeve, cursing under her breath.

"I can't obliviate her. Too many muggles around," she muttered.

"Damn," Michelle crossed her arms, turning her front toward the alley as the boys passed. "We'll have to try to get her later."

"Agreed. Or," Kelly changed her tone, "We could play around with this."

"What do you mean?" Michelle eyed her friend warily.

"Well it's obvious that this chick likes Oliver. And she was pretty nasty to you. It would obliterate her self-esteem if she tried to get Oliver and was turned down because he wants you."

"It would be nice to shatter her confidence…How would we do that?"

"We let it slip to Amanda Miranda where you two are going for dinner. If I know her type, she'll go and try to upstage you. You simply flirt back with Oliver and one- it'll give him a bit of what he wants, two- it'll put Amanda in her place, and three- it'll be crazy entertaining to see how this plays out!"

"Oh you are evil," Michelle smiled.

"And you love it," Kelly stuck her tongue out. The two trotted back across the street to the café. They saw Amanda sitting at a table on the patio, smiled at her and went upstairs.

"Now," Kelly started digging through a trunk at the end of her bed, "Oliver said he would pick you up at seven."

"Yes, even though I said lunch."

"Well everyone knows that dinner is far more romantic than lunch. He obviously wants to get you in a romantic setting. Now we have to figure out _where_ he's taking you for dinner. You'll need to dress accordingly," Kelly pulled out a blanket made of a rich fuchsia fabric. "This'll do for color." She set the blanket on the bed and pulled out her wand, beginning to transfigure it into a dress.

The blanket lifted off of the bed, spinning and twirling and curving as it transformed. The dress now had two straps, about an inch wide at the top of the shoulder, that came down to cover her chest but leave a low 'v' neckline. In the back, the straps simply came straight down, attaching to a fitted bodice that flared out into a full, flowing skirt that hit just above the knee. The completed garment spun in a slow, mid-air circle in front of the girls.

"It's beautiful," Michelle breathed, smiling.

"We'll accessorize it with gold," Kelly transfigured a few pieces of her own jewelry into a gold necklace, a chunky gold cuff, and gold flower earrings. "God I love being a witch," she sighed, stepping back to admire her work.

"Shoes?" Michelle piped up.

"Right! Just a moment," Kelly turned and opened her closet, falling to her knees and digging through her shoe racks. She tossed a few stray scarves and socks and one squeaky duck behind her, Michelle dodging the clothes but catching the duck, and staring at it. "Got it!" Kelly yelled from the closet.

She re-entered her bedroom holding a pair of black, platform stilettos. She tapped the dress and then the shoes, which shifted color to match the fuchsia.

"What do you think?" Kelly beamed.

"I love it! I think I'm actually looking forward to a date with Oliver Wood," Michelle laughed.

"Yeah. You're not looking forward to it because he's hopelessly devoted, almost sinfully good-looking, or rich and athletic. You just like the dress. That makes so much sense," Kelly teased.

"Well would you like to go on this date? Maybe whip up some Polyjuice potion and switch places for an evening?" Michelle smiled playfully.

"No, not yet. Not until I would be able to get him into bed," Kelly flopped onto her bed, mockingly striking a sexy pose.

"Well it's nice to see that you aren't letting your morals get in the way," Michelle laughed. But her happy face soon grew serious, "So how do we set this up? I have no idea where we're going for dinner. And we have to give Amanda enough time to get dressed and crash our date. God I can't wait to see that bitch get crushed," a mischievous grin crept onto her face.

"Patience, grasshopper," Kelly rolled onto her back. "This is how it'll go down. I'll cast a disillusionment charm on myself and follow you and Oliver until I find out where you're going. Then I'll use a locating charm to find Amanda, and apparate to wherever she is, and let it slip where you are. But remember, Michelle," she sat up, her face the very image of serious, "You need to play the part. Keep Oliver at the restaurant as long as possible. Make sure that Amanda doesn't stand a chance."

Michelle nodded, "I think I can do that."

"Good. Now then, only," Kelly glanced at her clock, "Seven hours until he picks you up! Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Mario Party Eight?" she looked hopeful.

"No, silly goose. Makeup and hair!"

"But you can just use magic and it'll only take a few minutes."

"Yes but it's not nearly as fun!" Kelly whined. "Now sit down, I'm going to experiment."

"Oh god…"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Six and half hours and ten makeovers later, Michelle was ready for her date with Oliver. Kelly had experimented on her by using makeup to make her look like a fish, a hooker, an eagle, and she had practiced various methods of the smoky eye, contouring, and even did some work with prosthetics before settling on light, medium and dark brown eye shadow, black liner, brown mascara tipped with black mascara, and light pink lip stain. Looking in a mirror, Michelle figured she was ready for a red carpet event.

"Wow," she breathed, smiling ear to ear, "I look awesome."

"That's why makeup by hand will always beat makeup by magic," Kelly crossed her arms, stepping back to admire her work. "Now we need you to get dressed. We have half an hour before Oliver picks you up. Oh shoot…"

"What?"

"Where is Oliver picking you up? Here or at your house?"

"I…don't know. I would think my house, because…that is where I live. But he really doesn't like Cecily. If you were Oliver, where would you pick me up?"

"Probably here," Kelly shrugged. "It's where I would have seen you last."

"That's true. I guess we'll just wait here and see."

"Yup. We only have twenty minutes left. So you better get dressed!" Kelly held the dress out to Michelle. She took it, going to Kelly's bathroom to change. She returned a few minutes later, wearing the dress and holding her normal clothes. Kelly grabbed the jewelry she had transfigured for her, walking behind her to clasp the necklace. Michelle took the cuff and slipped it onto her wrist and, when Kelly was done with the necklace, stooped down to put the shoes on.

"Oh my god," she stood up immediately, "We forgot my hair."

"Frick," Kelly gasped. "We'll just have to do it with magic." She pulled out her wand and waved it around, muttering a spell that Michelle wasn't familiar with. She glanced in the mirror and saw her hair move on its own, straightening and twisting into a messy- but chic, as Kelly described it- half up style. When the spell was finished, they still had fifteen minutes until Oliver would be there.

"We should practice before Oliver gets here," Michelle said, turning to Kelly.

"Practice what?"

"Practice…flirting. I'm not very good at it, and if I have to convince Oliver I like him, I'll definitely have to practice.

"Okay. I'll be Oliver then," Kelly widened her stance and waved her hand down, passing her face, her eyes closed and taking a deep breath. "I'm ready."

Michelle cleared her throat and stepped toward Kelly, "Good evening, Oliver." She batted her eyelashes.

"Evening, babe. I'm glad you changed your mind. Cuz tonight, it's about to get blown," Kelly nodded, shifting her weight to her left leg.

"Okay I can't do this," Michelle shook her head, turning around.

"What? Why not?"

"This is ridiculous! Number one, I don't like Oliver so pretending to like him is almost impossible. Number two, you make a terrible guy!"

"I do not," Kelly gasped, her eyebrows furrowing together as she evened her stance.

"You do too! I have never met a guy who talks like that," Michelle crossed her arms, widening her stance.

"Well how do you suggest we practice? You want me to kidnap some random guy off of the street to hit on you?"

"Kelly, that's just rude."

"You're right," Kelly sighed.

"Not to mention illegal," Michelle added.

"Details," Kelly waved her hand.

"At least give me some tips before he gets here. Conversation starters, compliments, things like that."

"I can't just give you a stack of note cards, Michelle. They'd never fit in your purse. Purse!" Kelly shrieked.

Michelle took a step back at her friend's outburst, "What purse?"

"Exactly! In all the excitement I forgot to give you a purse!" Kelly ran to her closet again, digging through her purse bin.

"Why can't I use my purse?" Michelle inquired, glancing at the small over the shoulder bag she'd left in Kelly's room earlier that day.

Kelly stuck her head out of the closet, "Don't insult me, Meech. I got that awesome ensemble together, I'm not letting it be ruined by a purse. You need something that matches," she returned to her search. Michelle rolled her eyes. If she and Kelly weren't such good friends, she wouldn't be able to put up with her. But beyond her slightly abrasive exterior, Kelly was a total sweetheart and fiercely loyal. And apparently she was a werewolf, too. Maybe that explained the fiercely loyal and abrasiveness…

"I have it!" Kelly emerged from the closet, slightly disheveled, but holding a small, ruffly handbag. It was hot pink with a golden clasp and chain. The pink wasn't the same shade as the dress and shoes, but that was what magic is for. With a wave of her wand a couple of words, the handbag matched perfectly and Michelle was set.

"Perfect," Michelle glanced at herself in the mirror. "What time is it?"

As if on cue, Kelly's mother knocked on the door. Kelly answered, and exchanged a few hushed words with her, before closing it and turning to Michelle.

"He's here," she grinned.

Michelle stepped slowly down into the café, followed closely by Kelly. As she came into the room, she could see Oliver dressed in a suit, probably designer, definitely expensive.

"Thank you," she whispered to Kelly, who nodded her approval of the couple's attire. She turned back to Oliver, "So where are we going, anyway? I'm lucky Kelly's so quick to play dress up otherwise I would be completely underdressed next to you." She knew she was supposed to be flirting as hard as possible, but she couldn't help but spit out that last comment.

"I had a feeling I could trust she would get excited and dress you up. You look ravishing, by the way," he stepped forward, hands in his pockets and his chin dipped slightly but maintaining eye contact.

"You still haven't said where we're going," Michelle shifted her weight onto her left leg, moving away from Oliver ever so slightly. Her move did not go unnoticed, as Oliver stopped his advance and tilted his chin up slightly.

"I found this restaurant in downtown London. The Gilded Lantern. Shall we?" he held his arm out.

"Yes," Michelle stepped forward and took his arm, glancing back at Kelly to make sure she had heard the name of the restaurant. Kelly nodded again, and feeling assured, Michelle followed Oliver out of the café. To her surprise, the keeper led her to a limousine.

"A limo? Really?" she stared at him.

"The Gilded Lantern is a muggle restaurant," Oliver opened the door for her, following as she climbed into the back seat. The door closed behind him, and soon they were off.

"So…How's Quidditch going?"

"Well we're in the pre-play-off break. We've been training a lot, though."

"I can tell," she shrugged. Her eyes widened when she realized what she had said, and she looked away, blushing.

"Yeah?" Oliver leaned back in his seat, spreading his arms out on the seat back next to him. A smirk had grown on his face, and it didn't look like was going to be leaving for a while.

"Well, yeah," she shrugged again. "You're…muscle…y…"

"Always a good thing to hear," the smirk grew. Michelle glanced over to see he was staring intently at her. She sat with her spine as straight as possible, her handbag in her lap, knees together and ankles crossed. Her fingers played absent-mindedly with the golden chain on her purse as she stared out the window, watching the city pass by.

"If you could be any kind of tree, what kind of tree would you be and why?"

This question caused Oliver to lean forward, his elbows on his knees, "Pardon?"

"If you could be any kind of tree, what kind of tree would you be and why?"

"That's what I thought you said," he chuckled, leaning back. "Is it because my last name is 'Wood'?"

"No. I don't think of lumber and trees as the same thing," she shrugged.

"You shrug a lot," Oliver observed.

"I do? Oh. I'm sorry?"

"No," he laughed, "It's cute."

"How is shrugging cute?"

"You're doing it," his eye contact was intense and sincere. Michelle felt her cheeks grow warmer, and turned away to look at the floor.

"You're cheesy," she muttered.

"And you like it?" he ventured, leaning forward again.

Michelle flicked her eyes up to meet his gaze, "Maybe a little," she whispered, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"I'm glad you said yes to dinner," Oliver smiled.

"I didn't," Michelle corrected. "I said yes to lunch and you said you'd pick me up at seven."

"That's true," he leaned back, clasping his hands between his knees. "But in my defense, dinner is far more romantic than lunch could ever hope to be."

"Not necessarily," Michelle leaned back as well, crossing her arms. "Any meal can be equally romantic."

"I'd be willing to test that, if you'd join me," Oliver smirked.

"Oh? When exactly would we do that?"

"Well we could start with breakfast in bed tomorrow morning," his smirk grew.

Michelle's cheeks flushed red, "I think not!" No sooner had the words left her mouth than Michelle mentally kicked herself. She was supposed to be flirting with him, making him think she liked him back. She had to have him set for the encounter with Amanda.

"We'll wait 'til we're out of bed, then," he winked. Michelle turned her head in a feeble attempt to hide the growing blush that covered her cheeks.

"So how much farther is-"

"We're here." Oliver scooted forward in his seat and straightened his suit. Michelle jumped slightly, grabbing her clutch. As the limo came to a stop, the keeper looked over and grinned. "I think you'll like the restaurant. It's muggle, but it's nice. The boys and I found it last season."

The chauffeur opened the door, and Oliver climbed out. Michelle was close behind him, stepping out onto the sidewalk. Oliver took her hand and, after a moment of locked eye contact, put her arm in his and led her to the door of The Gilded Lantern. The French doors swung open, two doormen greeting the two as they walked in. A tall, skinny man stood at the host podium just inside the entrance, dressed in a crisp suit and sporting a twiddly mustache.

"Reservations?" he asked, looking down his nose at the two.

"Oliver Wood, for two."

The host scanned his book, glanced up at Oliver, and said, "Ah yes, right this way." He turned on his heel and walked toward the center of the restaurant, weaving in between tables. Michelle began to wonder where exactly Oliver had reserved a table, as they walked to the back of the restaurant and into an elevator. The host pushed a button labeled 'O'.

Michelle leaned into Oliver, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he smirked down at her. Michelle had seen many smirks in her life. Draco Malfoy, at school, had been one example. Michelle hadn't encountered him nearly as often as her older friends, but what she had seen, she didn't like. But where Draco's smirk was full of condescending, Oliver's was more playful. It was as if he had a secret that he was going to tell her any minute, and he knew that her reaction would be exactly what he wanted.

When the elevator stopped, the doors opened to reveal a glass observatory with a crystal clear view of the surrounding city. Michelle stepped out, open-mouthed, and followed the host down a few steps to a table set for two. All around the border of the room, candles sat on candelabras of varying heights. The observatory itself had a ring around the edge- a marble walkway with rich wooden railings- that stepped down into the seating area at four points.

"This is beautiful," Michelle breathed. "How did you find this place?" She glanced at Oliver, finding it difficult to believe that a group of Quidditch players- even if they were professional- had stumbled upon such a fantastically romantic private room in a restaurant.

"One of our guys, Hammond, a beater, got married last season. The bride's family happened to be extremely affluent in the muggle community. They own this restaurant, and the reception was here."

Michelle wandered off to the edge of the room, looking down at the city, "A room like this is perfect for a reception." Oliver walked up behind her, his hands in his pants pockets. Michelle could see his reflection in the spotless glass.

"Something I should keep in mind?"

Michelle's eyes widened, searching for a flirtatious response. "Maybe," she shrugged. She prayed that would work.

Oliver seemed satisfied by that answer, as his reflection smiled and reached out, taking Michelle's hand. He led her to the table, pulled her chair out for her, and sat down. The host had already left, Michelle noticed as she looked around, but a waiter approached with two menus in hand.

"Thank you," Oliver took his from the waiter and Michelle followed suit. She looked through the entrées, unsure of what to get. The entire menu was written in French, and all of the "du's", "au's", and "poule's" were making her head spin. Oliver glanced up, sensing her confusion. The Hufflepuff gave him a whimpering look, and he smiled.

"How about I order for both of us?"

Michelle nodded.

The waiter returned shortly, ready to take their menus and orders.

"I'll have the coq au vin, and she'll have the terrine de saumon aux epinards," Oliver handed both menus to the waiter, who nodded and scribbled down their orders.

"And would you like any wine with that, sir?"

"Yes, a bottle of brut, please."

"We'll have that right out," the waiter nodded and left.

"What is brut?"

"It's a hybrid wine with Pinot Noir and Chardonnay. It'll match the food perfectly, trust me," Oliver smiled.

"Never took you for a wine connoisseur," Michelle sat back in her chair.

"You learn a lot about wine and French food when you date a French model for a year." The moment the words left his mouth, Oliver looked away. Michelle wasn't sure why, but she felt a pang of…jealousy?

"A model? And French, no less. Well that must've been fun," she hissed out. She had tried to sound casual and unaffected, but to no avail.

"I had just signed with the team, and we were doing an exhibition tour between seasons. We met at a club after a game, and we hit it off."

"Was she a witch?"

"No, she was muggle. Took quite a bit to make my cover story stick."

"What was your cover story?" Michelle leaned forward, intrigued.

"I was uh," Oliver cleared his throat and averted his eyes, "I was a spy," he stared at the marble floor.

Michelle burst out laughing, "A spy? Seriously? Did she believe that?"

"Well yeah. I told her that, obviously, I no one else who knew would admit it, because of security reasons. And no one ever said that models were intelligent," he shrugged.

"So you dated a dumb French model for a whole year," Michelle leaned back, crossing her arms.

"I was fresh out of Hogwarts, and I'd just signed to a professional Quidditch team. Over half of the guys were dating models, the rest were dating debutantes. I wanted to fit in," Oliver shrugged again, a hint of bite in his voice.

Michelle uncrossed her arms, "Oh. Gotcha." Oliver's expression changed, softening. He opened his mouth to speak, but as cut off by the waiter returning with the wine. Michelle sat awkwardly as the waiter opened the bottle and poured it for her and Oliver. As he left, Oliver straightened in his chair, grabbing his glass.

"I'm glad you agreed to come to dinner, Michelle." He took a small sip.

"Well a girl can only resist for so long," she shrugged.

"And you're sure your boyfriend doesn't mind?"

"Boyfriend?" Michelle gave Oliver a quizzical look, realizing her mistake a second too late. "Oh! Silver! Oh, no, he's…I don't think he'd really mind, I mean…He's leaving for the states pretty soon, so…" Michelle grabbed her glass and took a long sip, attempting to buy time.

"Well either way, I'm glad you're here," Oliver smirked.

"So-"

"Oh my god! Michelle!"

The Hufflepuff turned in her seat to see none other than Amanda Miranda stepping off of the elevator, walking towards them. She was baffled at how the American has found them. While Kelly must have told them which restaurant they were at, how could Amanda find them in the observatory?

"Amanda," Michelle forced a smile, "What are you doing here?"

"My aunt and uncle own this restaurant!" the blonde smiled, reaching their table.

"What a coincidence," the brunette forced through her grimace.

"I know, right?" Amanda turned to Oliver, "And you must be Oliver," she took a step toward the young man. "Michelle and Kelly have told me so much about you."

"Have they now?" Oliver glanced at Michelle, smiling.

"Oh yeah. She's a hell of a lucky girl to have such a dreamy boyfriend," Amanda shifted her weight to a sexy pose.

Oliver's smile widened.

"Oh I think I'm the lucky one."


End file.
